


Birdshot And Buckshot

by PrincessAmonRae



Category: due South
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Gunshot Wounds, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessAmonRae/pseuds/PrincessAmonRae
Summary: Benton Fraser had worried about Ray all the time in Chicago; worried constantly that he would be another cop who died in the line of duty, probably following Fraser on whatever hairbrained scheme he’d come up with. But those worries had decreased to the point of disappearing once they’d settled in the Territories, with Ray working for Ducks Unlimited and him with the local RCMP detachment again.Ray Kowalski worried constantly about Fraser in Chicago, not only because of the hairbrained scheme that he concocted, but because he had to try and keep someone else’s best friend alive. Then his worries increased when he fell in love with Fraser, and then when they moved to Canada because now not only did he have to worry about criminals, but also nature.
Relationships: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	Birdshot And Buckshot

Benton Fraser had worried about Ray all the time in Chicago; worried constantly that he would be another cop who died in the line of duty, probably following Fraser on whatever hairbrained scheme he’d come up with. Fraser is very sure that he wouldn’t’ have been able to live with himself if that unspeakable thing had happened, if he had gotten Ray killed and ruined Ray Vecchio’s life in one fell swoop. 

But those worries had decreased to the point of disappearing once they’d settled in the Territories, with Ray working for Ducks Unlimited and him with the local RCMP detachment again. Ray was the best shot with the tranquilizer gun they had, and increasingly efficient with the tagging of the various animals Ducks Unlimited wanted to track. 

_“Making a proper scientist of myself Frase,” Ray had said proudly, and Fraser had smiled._

_“You certainly are.” And then Ray had fixed him with a look._

_“Don’t go getting yourself shot now that I’m not there to back you up.”_

_“Of course.”_

Fraser keeps his promise, doesn’t get shot. Not to say that he doesn’t get shot at, but things are much more mundane here than they had ever been in Chicago. That is until one day when Fraser returns from a routine patrol, stamping snow off his boots when his supervisor, Bruce Porter, leans out of his office. 

“Fraser get in here,” He orders, and Fraser follows without a word, though nerves are bubbling up in his gut, it’s the same kind of tone his superiors had always used before his banishment. 

“Sir?” Fraser asks as he enters the office and concern flashes across Porter’s face before he gestures towards the radio. 

“Just got a call on the radio. It’s Ray. He’s been shot.” Ray and Fraser had agreed that they wouldn’t hide their relationship, but that they would be subtle about it at work and Fraser knows that he has blown that possibility completely out of the air since there is no way that Porter missed the way he paled when his blood turned to ice in half a heart beat. 

Porter definitely didn’t miss the way Fraser lurched as his knees buckled and caught himself on the side of Porter’s desk. 

“What?” Fraser managed to get out weakly. He’s having worse memories rise up behind his eyelids now, not of being reprimanded by his superiors, but of finding out his father was dead. 

“Not sure what happened. Just got informed to tell you they were taking him to the hospital.” Porter reaches over and claps a supportive hand to his shoulder before shouting out the still open door of the office. “Shelley!” 

“Yes sir?” Sarah Shelley asks as she appears in the doorway. 

“Fraser needs a ride to the hospital,” Porter says and Shelley nods with a sympathetic look on her face and a gentle hand on Fraser’s elbow. He follows her numbly to the car and sits silently enough that halfway there she looks over at him in worry. 

“Are you doing alright Constable?” She asks. 

“No,” Fraser rasps out, because how could he be doing alright when Ray has been shot? When he had put these worries behind him only to have them rise up in front of him? 

“They took him to the hospital Benton,” Shelley reminds him gently and that calms him down slightly, enough that the worried numbness snaps away and twists into a nervous ball of barbed wire in his stomach for the rest of the ride. 

He practically flies out of the vehicle when Shelley rolls to a stop outside the doors, throws a thank you over his shoulder as he goes barrelling inside, skidding to a stop at the admission desk. 

“Ray Kowalski?” he gasps and the nurse points to a room a few doors down. 

“Ah Hell Fraser they called you?” Ray says as soon as Fraser throws the door open. 

“Since I am your next of kin and you are in the _hospital_ yes they called me,” Fraser says, though he’s not sure what tone comes out of his mouth as he is too busy staring at the multitude of gauze pads all over Ray’s torso. The nurse practitioner holding a pair of tweezers makes an aggrieved noise when Ray attempts to sit up and Fraser moves forward to press him back onto the bed and suddenly realizes that his hand is shaking. 

“Can you give us a minute?” Ray asks the nurse who looks between the two of them and nods making herself quickly scarce. Ray immediately sits up. 

“Ray-“ 

“Fraser-“ Ray says back instantly in a firm tone. “You are shaking. I have never seen you shake before. I’m a little concerned.” 

“You have never been shot before,” Fraser says steadier than he thought was possible as he takes in the sheer number of gauze pads. “What the hell did they hit you with?” 

“Bird shot,” Ray explains. “Poor kid didn’t know he was on a protected wetland, musta missed the signs, startled him when I came up behind him. Trying not to get shot y’know?” 

“Ray all due respect but you failed.” 

“Wasn’t the kid’s fault.” Fraser raises an eyebrow up at that. “Dropped the gun to put his hands up in the air and the damn thing went off when it hit the dirt.” 

“Jesus Christ Ray,” Fraser says and whatever has been keeping him upright fails as he slumps into a nearby chair. 

“Ben?” Ray asks worriedly. “Are you okay?” 

“As a matter of fact, I am not. You did after all get shot.” Ray makes a few grunts of pain and Fraser looks up at him, he’s trying to wiggle closer to Fraser without getting off the bed. 

“Ben it was an accident and we both know that I’ve had worse.” Then Ray’s face changed to his detective face, the one he got when his gut was driving him to a conclusion. “Oh, Hell Fraser. Porter told you I got shot the same way you got told your dad died!?” 

“Brilliant deduction,” Fraser says and then Ray manages to get a fist in Fraser’s shirt at the shoulder and haul him up onto the bed next to him and wraps Fraser up in his arms. Fraser buries his face in the curve of Ray’s shoulder and tries not to shake all over again. “If I had lost you to a bullet in the tundra-“ 

“Yeah well tough shit Ben you’re still stuck with me.” Ray’s interjection shouldn’t be comforting but it is. “And do not think you can pull any of that Fraser shit to get back at me.” 

“I would not wish the worry I felt on you for a single moment,” Fraser swears as he basks in the beautiful feeling of Ray’s pulse against his lips. “I love you.” 

“Yeah I know Ben. I love you too.” Fraser doesn’t have to look at Ray to know he’s smiling. “Even if you do destroy our subtlety.” 

“I would have liked to see you do better,” Fraser grumbles and Ray laughs. 

XXXX 

_18 Months Later_

Ray Kowalski worried constantly about Fraser in Chicago, not only because of the hairbrained scheme that he concocted, but because he had to try and keep someone else’s best friend alive. Then his worries increased when he fell in love with Fraser, and then when they moved to Canada because now not only did he have to worry about criminals, but also nature. 

He appreciates the nature in that way where you accept that something is beautiful and deadly and mildly terrifying if you think about it for too long. He does not appreciate the criminals and knows how Fraser will just leave his self-preservation behind in the pursuit of Justice. 

_“I do not say justice with a capital J Ray,” Fraser had protested when Ray had explained this to him._

_“Bullshit you don’t Fraser.”_

_“It would not be grammatically correct to do so,” Fraser said with a teasing glint in his eyes._

_“No defense on the lack of self-preservation then?”_

Ray’s been tense ever since the birdshot incident, though the continual kisses that Fraser had layered onto the sprinkling of scars for weeks after the bandaids had come off had done wonders for stress relief. But realistically he knows that Benton Fraser is going to have to outdo him in typical _Benton Fraser style_ even if Fraser doesn’t intend to do it purposefully. 

Stewart comes jogging up to his desk one day and thumbs over his shoulder towards the main desk at the front door. 

“Phone for you.” Ray groans and heaves himself away from his desk. 

“We really gotta get us another phone,” he says over his shoulder as he lifts the phone to his ear. “Ray Kowalski here.” 

“Ray. This is Shelley. It’s Fraser.” There’s a split-second moment of hesitation. “He’s been shot.” 

“Oh Jesus,” Ray says and gets viciously lightheaded. If this is what Fraser felt when Ray had gotten shot then he owes him about seven more beers. “How bad is it?” 

“It’s—It’s bad Ray. Get to the hospital.” Shelley hangs up on him and Ray returns the phone to its cradle on auto pilot before gripping the arms of the chair and – _Wait a minute when did he sit down?_ – He doesn’t remember sitting down and Stewart comes back. 

“Something wrong?” Ray’s muscles seize before he bolts out of the building in response and goes flying across town to the hospital on foot, skidding inside the building about forty-five seconds before the stretcher bearing Fraser flings the doors open behind him. 

Shelley had somehow managed to sugar-coat it because it’s not bad, _it’s awful_. Fraser’s hands are crusted in blood and it’s still coming out of him in a way that makes Ray’s guts clench because he knows what it looks like when someone is on the brink of bleeding out. 

“Fraser! What the Fuck I told you no getting shot!” Ray says as he matches speed with the stretcher. Fraser grimaces a smile and grasps his hand. 

“Ray.” His name is apparently all that Fraser can manage to get out before he passes out and the stretcher starts moving faster towards the ER doors. Shelley appears at his elbow as soon as the doors swing shut behind Fraser and wraps her hand around his arm in comfort. 

“Jesus Christ. Oh God he’s bleeding out,” he whispers and then in front of Shelley, Porter and half the staff of the admissions room; Ray vomits neatly all over Shelley’s shoes. 

“I don’t know who I am without him,” Ray whispers hoarsely approximately an hour – _one hour, three minutes and twenty-eight seconds_ \- later and Shelley makes a soothing noise. He has changed his mind about who owes who beer now that he’s been sitting here, Fraser owes him two cases of the damn stuff. One which Ray is going to drink, and the other which is going to be transferred to Shelley, since she had waved off his vomit induced apologies without a word, called his boss for him to explain and come back with coffee. 

“Do you want to know what happened?” Shelley asks. 

“No, but it will kill me if I don’t.” Shelley smiles in understanding and details the story; how she and Fraser had found a poacher on a routine patrol, how neither of them had clued in to the fact that the poacher had a friend until Fraser had a torso full of buckshot, how Fraser, the damned idiot (Ray’s words not Shelley’s), had barely flinched until both of the poachers had been apprehended before calmly alerting Shelley to the fact that he’d been shot. 

“Sounds like Benton Fraser,” Ray grumbles and Shelley laughs. 

“He was that bad in Chicago?” She asks. Ray hums in response. 

“Only ever seemed to get injured if he wasn’t wearing his Stetson. Damned infuriating.” Shelley laughed again before she squeezed his knee. 

“He’s going to be okay.” 

“Standard procedure to not lie to the family,” Ray says, because that is like rule number three of being a cop. Shelley simply looks at him. 

“Benton Fraser loves you way too much to leave you.” She says it like fact before she cracks a smile. “Besides I feel like he owes you a beer.” 

“He does not owe me _A_ beer,” Ray corrects automatically with the first smile in hours creeping across his face. 

One hour, thirty-four minutes and seventeen seconds later the doctor steps out of the ER doors and informs them that everything went fine, Fraser is going to make a perfect recovery, and he should be coming off the anaesthetic within the next hour. Ray gets lightheaded with relief so while Shelley shakes the doctor’s hand and asks after the pellets they fished out of Fraser, Ray puts his head between his knees and tries to remember what normal breathing feels like. 

“Did you react better?” Fraser slurs out as soon as he shakes off the anaesthetic almost fifty-five minutes later, and squeezes Ray’s hand. Several expressions flash across Ray’s face before it settles on incredulity. 

“Benton Fraser I will kill you!” Ray shouts as he leaps out of his chair and Fraser laughs even though it clearly hurts. “No, you _asshole_ I did not do better than you. I threw up on Shelley’s shoes.” 

“So, our subtlety is blown then?” Fraser teases while Ray leans for the call button. 

“Fuck you Fraser. I didn’t even need _stitches_.” 

“I love you too Ray.” 

“You owe me two cases of beer,” Ray hisses before he ducks down to kiss Fraser deeply. Fraser tastes like hospital which makes Ray shudder slightly. 

“Two cases of beer?” Fraser repeats after they separate so that the nurse can check the bandages. Ray nods matter of factly. 

“One for me and one for Shelley.” 

“How logical of you Ray. She handled the situation admirably.” 

“Don’t fucking start with me Fraser I swear to God-“

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look it's me again!   
> Thanks for the support!


End file.
